Tales of Black I: Whitest White
by pr3ttykittycat
Summary: "If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself." -George Orwell. Before Hogwarts, I was just another name born into the pureblood hierarchy. I didn't need to hide from my friends before because they always knew. But now, if I tell... who knows that would happen... -Lucille Black, daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange
1. Chapter One

**Year One**

" _Dear Miss Black,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry_."

"I can hardly even wait!" I exclaimed, an excited grin stretching across my face. I looked up to my Aunt Andromeda and Uncle Ted, who scoffed at my enthusiasm.

"Don't worry, love," my aunt said, pinching my cheek affectionately. I stuck my tongue out at her. "The entire month that you have to wait will go by faster than you think."

"Bout time they mailed you! I was thinking they didn't want you," teased Uncle Ted. He snatched the letter from my hands. "Are you sure this is real? Perhaps they sent it as a joke."

"Oh, Ted," Aunt Dromeda exclaimed, smacking his shoulder. I could tell she was hiding a smile, though. She took the letter from him and examined the list. "We'll have to go to Diagon Alley for your supplies. How about tomorrow afternoon?"

* * *

"Deep breaths," I told myself as I dragged my things behind me and tried to find an empty compartment. Several more minutes of this, and I finally found one and sighed with relief. I shoved my trunk into the corner and sat down.

As I watched other students of various ages hurry up and down the corridor, I wondered if anyone would come to sit with me. My face burned with embarrassment every time an older student looked into the compartment and continued without a second glance. Suddenly, I wondered if it was too late to go back home with my aunt and uncle.

Hearing the compartment door slide open, my head shot up to look at my guest. I almost sighed with relief at the familiar face.

"Draco!"

"I can't stay long," he said, sitting in the seat across from me. "I only have a few minutes before Vincent and Greg come looking for me."

"Vincent and Greg?" I smothered a laugh behind my hand. "Aren't you getting a bit old to call them by their first names?"

"Shut up, you," Draco said, lightly kicking my foot. "I supposed we should start calling each other by surnames. It's probably what father would want."

"I expect you'll be in Slytherin, then," I said.

He shot me a sly grin. "Of course I will," he said. "I don't belong anywhere else. What about you? I figure Slytherin is the last house you would be sorted into."

"I don't know yet," I replied with a shrug. "It's been years, and yet Pansy's not any less obnoxious. Not sure I want to spend the next seven years stuck in a dormitory with her."

Draco laughed, pink flushing into his cheeks. "Fair point," he said. "You better decide soon. You haven't got much time left."

A whistle sounded overhead, and we both jumped at the noise.

"I better go," Draco said, standing up. He paused as he looked at the door. "Looks like someone wants to join you."

I looked over to the compartment door window and saw a round-faced boy peeking in at us, a hand clutching a fat toad.

"I'll see you," Draco said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. As he exited the compartment, the other boy flinched away from the door.

"Hey," I called to him. "You can come in and sit if you like. It's just me in here."

The boy shuffled in, struggling as the sliding door closed on his trunk. I watched him in amusement as he pulled it through, the toad slipping from his hands.

"Oh dear," came a voice down the corridor. A girl with bushy brown hair appeared in the door just as the boy finished putting away his trunk. "Was that your toad out there?"

"Yes," the boy said, turning his pink face down to the floor. "His name's Trevor. I'm awful at keeping up with him."

"Oh, well, he's gone now," said the girl matter-of-factly. She looked around the compartment, her eyes falling on me. "Do you mind if I sit in here as well? I've been searching for a seat somewhere but haven't had much luck."

"Sure," I said, motioning for her to sit.

She took an empty spot to my left, while the boy sat across from me. He gazed shyly at the pair of us, before awkwardly extending a hand out to me.

"I'm Neville," he said. He didn't offer a surname. I didn't ask.

I shook his hand, glad that he hadn't offered the one that previously held a toad.

"I'm Lucy," I told him. I turned to the girl expectantly.

She stuck her hand out, as if she were excited to be introducing herself. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Nice to meet you," I said. Neville echoed my statement.

"What house are you hoping to be in?" Hermione asked. She stared thoughtfully at a spot above my head. "At first, I thought Ravenclaw would be the perfect house for me. I mean, I love school and I think I could really love being in that house… It's just that I did a lot of reading about Professor Dumbledore – you know, the headmaster of Hogwarts – and all of his accomplishments. He's done loads, so I thought, why couldn't I be in Gryffindor? So I asked my parents what they thought, but they're dentists, so they haven't really got a clue, do they?"

She went on like this for ages. I didn't mind much – she never expected me to answer. But, across from me, I could see Neville squirming with discomfort. After the trolley passed and Hermione had taken up a one-sided discussion of the history of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, I decided I wanted to retain the hearing in my left ear.

"Fascinating," I said dryly. She didn't seem to notice. I turned to Neville and cut across Hermione's babbling voice. "Would you like me to help you look for Trevor?"

"Yes, please, if you don't mind," he said quickly.

"We'll be back, yeah?" I said to Hermione as we slipped into the corridor. I pointed to the next room and told Neville, "Why don't you ask them, and I'll ask the next one."

He nodded and meandered to the next compartment. I walked past him and knocked on the last door in the carriage. Sliding the door open, I blushed when I realized the compartment was filled with older students.

"Hello, has anyone seen a toad?" I asked. "This boy Neville lost one?" They all shook their heads and I grimaced. "Well, thanks anyway. Sorry to bother you." Glancing over at Neville, I slid the door shut and started towards him.

"…my name?" he was saying. He twirled his thumbs nervously in front of his stomach. "Neville Longbottom."

I froze dead in my tracks. Neville Longbottom. Surely he wasn't… No, he couldn't be… right? No. It had to be a coincidence – surely the universe could spare me one single coincidence.

"Lucy?" Neville was looking at me with his big, round eyes and I felt my heart tremble in shame. "You don't look so good."

"I'm fine," I said, but my stomach clenched and my mouth tasted of bile. As we walked to the other side of the carriage, I asked, "So, what do your parents do, Neville?"

He hesitated, fixing me again with an unblinking stare. "I live with my gran," he said, turning away from me.

One hand on my stomach and another over my mouth, I ran for the restroom at the end of the carriage. The smell of the toilet didn't help as I said a second hello to my breakfast.

There was no denying the evidence: the universe just didn't like me.

Hermione called my name as she knocked on the door. "Lucy? Are you sick? Neville said you might be. Is it alright if I come in?"

"If I say yes, will you stop asking questions?"

The door cracked open, and Hermione peeked down at me. Her mouth dropped into a surprised 'o' shape. "You look terrible," she stated. "Are you going to be sick again?"

I shook my head, the squirm in my stomach significantly less, leaving behind a squeeze of anxiety in my chest.

"Then we better get you cleaned up," she said, stooping down and grabbing my shoulders to guide me upwards. When a dizzy spell had me leaning backwards, she held me steady. "Don't fall."

She handed me a damp napkin and I wiped the residue of sick from my lips.

"Thanks," I said after rinsing my mouth out.

"No problem," she replied, taking hold of my hand. She led me back to our compartment, and I collapsed onto my seat across from Neville. "You stay here. I'll go help Neville look for Trevor."

Neville reached across the aisle. After a brief moment of confusion, I realized he was giving me something. I took it. "Thanks," I repeated.

Alone in the compartment, I stared at the chocolate frog he had placed into my hand with a mixture of frustration and amazement. My entire situation felt like one huge prank from God.

I had always hoped I could find a way to fix the things my parents had done. There was no way to erase the pain they inflicted on so many families. The scars they left were far too deep – even 11 years later. But I could help make things better. I needed to make things better.

But now… But now the Universe was laughing at me. It wanted me to do the impossible, and it knew I would fail.

I opened the chocolate frog, breaking off the legs first before biting the head off. The image of Rowena Ravenclaw stared up at me. She smiled. My stomach flipped. I wondered if this stupid galleon's worth of chocolate was attempting to give me life advice.

"I could really use your wit and wisdom right about now," I said quietly.

Staring out the window, I marveled in the irony of me, Lucille Lestrange, befriending Neville Longbottom.


	2. Chapter Two

When the Hogwarts Express came to a stop, I managed to slip out of Hermione and Neville's sight. The head of pale blond was easy to find in the crowd, even past the two round bodies that trailed behind him.

Pushing past Pansy Parkinson, I sidled into step next to Draco. He looked me up and down once and his brows furrowed.

"You look awful," he stated.

"Funny, you're not the first person to tell me that," I said, bumping his shoulder. "I was a bit sick."

He helped me into a boat and sat next to me. Crabbe and Goyle took the bench behind us, tipping the boat slightly.

"What happened?" Draco asked. He looked paler than usual under the blue-tinted moonlight.

I glanced behind me. Crabbe and Goyle were listening to us. Contrary to popular belief, they weren't as stupid as they looked. Past them, I spotted Hermione at the same moment she saw me. She waved as she climbed into a boat with Neville and two boys I didn't recognize. I waved back and turned quickly.

"Maybe we should talk about this another time," I said, bringing my voice down. I felt bad, deliberately keeping things from Crabbe and Goyle. We all grew up together, and it was only a matter of time before they found out about Neville anyway. But I wanted to have a secret to myself, for once, even if only for a week.

He nodded in agreement. "Probably right."

The boats lurched forward and we fell into silence. I watched with a squirming stomach as we approached Hogwarts. The castle was intimidatingly huge.

Hello, Hogwarts. I hope you're happy to see me, because you are going to be my home for the next nine months. I'm ready if you are.

* * *

As we waited to be escorted to the Sorting Ceremony, something occurred to me.

"Draco, how are we being sorted?" I asked. My aunt and uncle refused to tell me, insisting that it was a surprise. They even asked Nymph to keep quiet, so the letters I sent her were completely pointless.

He stared down at me, his pale eyebrows raised in surprise. "I don't know that I ever asked," he said, shrugging. "I just knew I would be in Slytherin no matter what."

Pansy Parkinson appeared at Draco's elbow. "I just heard someone say that we have to do a test," she whispered. She looked back and forth between Draco and I, her eyes wide in terror. "What if we have to do spells? I never did any spells until on the train."

"Which is exactly why it would be impractical to do magic," I pointed out.

"Fair point," Draco said. "Look at you – you could be in Ravenclaw, you're so smart."

I smiled, tapping my foot impatiently. Why did they have to take so long? I just wanted the Sorting to be over with.

Pansy screamed, the high-pitched tone making my ears ring. Draco and I both stared at her, bewildered, until she pointed behind us.

A gaggle of ghosts had flown through the wall and were chatting away happily. Perhaps the dead were hard of hearing, because they didn't notice us until the fourth or fifth scream.

"Oh, come on, Pansy," I said, rolling my eyes. "You've seen a ghost before."

"I'm sorry," she whined. "They startled me!"

As the Friar claimed his house, I wondered what house the other ghosts belonged to. I was curious to know if they could help me decide on a house.

Behind us, I heard a cough and turned to see Professor McGonagall had returned. "I would suggest you move along," she said to the ghosts. "The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly."

As they disappeared, she turned a stern look upon us and inspected us quickly. Seeming to be satisfied with what she saw, she ordered us to follow her.

We filed out in pairs, and Pansy fell into step with me. She linked her arm around mine and smiled at me. Naturally, she began talking, but in the quietest voice I have never heard from her.

"I haven't seen you in so long, Lucy," she whispered. "We should see each other more. We should have lunch together."

"I don't know what house I'll be in," I reminded her.

"Will you be in Gryffindor?" Pansy asked.

"Probably not," I told her with a shrug.

"Then I don't care," she said, smiling and turning her head forward, signaling that the conversation was over and that she had won.

Sometimes I forgot she could be sweet.

As we entered the Great Hall, there was a collective breath of surprise. For a moment, I thought that there was no ceiling, but that seemed like a flawed building design, even for wizards. But as I inspected the edges of the starry patterns, I realized the black sky transitioned smoothly to the color of the walls. If there was no ceiling, the walls would form a solid line all the way around.

My classmates and I formed a crowd facing the teachers' head table. They stared at us with interest, as if they were already deciding which of us to fail.

I looked up at Draco, who stood at my side. My nerves clenched at my stomach and heart, and I felt as if I might be sick again. He shot me a sympathetic look.

My gaze returned to the front of the hall, where Professor McGonagall had placed a stool and a hat on top. I felt my eyebrows scrunch in confusion. It looked like a plain hat, except it was disgustingly old and worn. I almost prayed that I wouldn't have to put in on.

Imagine my surprise when the bloody hat began to sing.

" _Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _if you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folks use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!_ "

The students behind us and the teachers to our front erupted into applause. A scattered reaction sounded from the first years.

"So, we just put on the hat?" Pansy said, leaning closer to me. She wrapped a hand around my arm, waiting for confirmation.

I nodded. "I think so," I said. Biting my lip, I tried to remember the hat's descriptions of the houses. Gryffindor was bravery, daring, nerve, and… patience? No! Patience was Hufflepuff. Wit and learning for Ravenclaw? Yes, that seemed accurate.

Before I could think through my options, Professor McGonagall had stepped up to the stool, holding a roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will place the Sorting Hat on your head and sit on the stool," she said to us. "Abbott, Hannah!"

I felt the blood drain from my face. We were going in alphabetical order, and my surname would be among the firsts. I imagined my name being called, and me asking Professor McGonagall if I could skip my turn for the round.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

I glared furiously at McGonagall, silently begging her to not call my name at least until she got to the final B's.

"Black, Lucille."

So bloody rude.

I hesitated to step forward, nervously catching the eye of the only teacher I knew, the teacher that had known the entirety of my family for years – Severus Snape. His head inclined slightly. I supposed he meant to be encouraging.

Swallowing hard, I stepped up to the stool. The hat finally on my head, I quickly sat down. My fingers gripped the edge of the seat and I leaned my head down to hide my face from the crowd in front of me.

"My, my," the hat drawled in my ear. "What an interesting mind we have here. Why, I don't doubt you would succeed in any house – but I supposed we can't put you in all four, can we? You're rather clever aren't you? I could put you into Slytherin and make your bloodline proud. Slytherin would be a fine place for your academic career to flourish… But in Ravenclaw, you would have a change to have a separate identity. You could learn without having to be tied to your parents."

My heart leapt. I remembered the chocolate frog card in my pocket with smiling image of Rowena Ravenclaw.

"Well, it seems the matter is settled!" the hat exclaimed in her head. "RAVENCLAW!"

I couldn't help but smile so hard my cheeks hurt.


	3. Chapter Three

I woke in a bed comfortable enough to be my bed from home. Once I had rubbed my eyes open with my knuckles, I realized I was the only one awake. The light in the window was dim and dark blue. Still, I had no intention of going back to sleep.

The night before, I had been so tired that I failed to properly look at the common room. Now that I was alert, I could appreciate how the ceiling had the same spell as the Great Hall ceiling, and how the loft library overlooked the main commons area.

I crept over to the nearest bookshelf. Most of the books looked like they were for older students – thick spines, strange words, labelled as "advanced". Regardless, I slid one from the shelf and opened it to a random page. The smell of parchment and ink wafted over my face and I sighed in content. Yellowing pages rustled under my fingertips, begging to be read.

"Shouldn't you be in Slytherin?" said a voice behind me.

Nearly jumping out of my skin, I whipped my head around to see who had snuck up behind me.

Terry Boot had been the second person to join the Ravenclaw house. When he had sat down next to me at the table, he stared at me for a moment and said, 'Your hair is longer.' Years ago, Uncle Lucius held a dinner party and the Boots, being a respected Pureblood family, attended. When Pansy broke a vase in the hallway, it was Terry that had the sense to kick the shards under a low sitting table. Since then, Draco and I had always requested Uncle Lucius invite the Boots round.

The last time we had seen each other, I had been taller. Now, even from the small distance between us, I could tell he was an inch or so taller.

"No," I said curtly, shutting the book and replacing it on the shelf.

"This is brilliant, isn't it?" he said, pointing up at the ceiling. "I almost thought I was dreaming last night when I saw it. Too much pudding, I figured. But, no. It's real, and it's brilliant."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's nice."

"You used to go by Lestrange," he stated suddenly, his slanted eyes returning my gaze.

"And now I don't," I replied. My stomach grumbled. The window was starting to look brighter. "Let's go get breakfast."

Terry nodded in agreement and as we walked downstairs together, I gave him a sideways glance.

"You won't tell, will you?" I asked.

"No."

* * *

Our first class lead us out to the greenhouses, where Professor Sprout has us planting harmless flowers into large orange pots. Whenever her back was turned, Terry poked at some of the mushrooms that lined the walls of the building. The fungi smartened up quickly and began to adhere itself to his pencil until he altogether gave up on getting it back and left it on the wall. His next source of amusement was insisting that Draco, who was stationed across the table from us, had dirt on various parts of his face.

My hand began cramping in Professor McGonagall's class. She gave us a ridiculous number of notes to copy about turning matchsticks into needles. When prompted to actually perform the spell, only a few could. Terry was the first, lazily flicking his wand at his match and earning a point from Professor McGonagall. I was next, but only received a 'Good work' and a suspicious stare.

It was after Charms, when we were headed towards our next class, that I first discovered a trick step near the bottom of a fourth floor staircase. Just as my foot made contact, the step vanished. Startled and unable to keep my balance, I toppled forward and tumbled the rest of the way down.

Pain shot up my hands and knees as I landed. My book bag slid away from me, half of its contents scattering across the floor. Embarrassed and flustered, I waved away my housemates, insisting they shouldn't be late. Silently cursing myself, I stood out of the way until the traffic died down.

"Stupid idiot," I murmured, scooping up all of my quills and depositing them back into the pouch I had foolishly left unzipped. Thankfully, all of my ink bottles were still intact and parchment without wrinkles.

"Need help?"

"No," I said bitterly, glancing at the pair of red-headed twin boys that ignored me and picked up my fallen books anyway. My face burned red as I took them back and shoved them into my bag. "Thank you."

"What's your name?" one of the boys asked.

"Lucy," I replied.

"Oh, I think I remember you from the Sorting Ceremony," said the other boy, propping his elbow onto his brother's shoulder. "Ravenclaw, right?"

I nodded.

"Cool," he said with a grin. "I'm George."

"And I'm Fred."

"Gryffindor."

"What class are you going to, Lucy?" asked the first brother.

"Charms."

"Do you know where to go? Would you like us to take you there?"

If I wasn't blushing before (I had been, by the way), I certainly was now. "I don't want to keep you from your class," is what I meant to say. However, my brain had fizzled into an embarrassed mass of lumpy stuff and my mouth couldn't form coherent words.

But they seemed to understand the strangled protests that came from my mouth.

"I don't think we've got anything important to do," said the first brother, looking over his shoulder at the other twin. "What have we got?"

"Potions."

"Yeah, see? Nothing important."

I laughed and said, "Okay."

"Come on," they beckoned me. Fred put a hand on my shoulder as he spoke to me. "Luckily, Flitwick is pretty nice about tardiness on the first day. You won't be so lucky with all of your professors, though."

"Yeah, Snape definitely won't let you get away with it," George said. I didn't mention that Snape actually did like me.

"And McGonagall's only okay with it during your first week," Fred continued.

"Professor Sprout will be nice about it, but only for about a month."

"You probably won't ever have to worry about Quirrell. Mind that trick step just there."

"He'd sooner scream at his own shadow than tell off a student."

"Flitwick's class is just down this hall," Fred told me. "Now listen. If you ever need help—"

"Or if someone's bothering you—"

"Come find us," Fred finished as we slowed to a halt in front a tall wooden door. "We're happy to help."

They stood together now, their similarities emphasized by their close proximity. With two mischievous grins towering over me, I finally found my voice.

"Thank you," I said, my fingers clutching at the strap of my book bag. "You really didn't have to…"

Fred shook his head. "Nah, it's fine," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "We Gryffindors love our chivalry."

"But clearly not modesty," I mumbled without thinking.

George snickered. Fred tilted his head curiously.

"I was wondering if you had a sense of humor," he said. He spoke to George next. "It's always the Ravenclaws that are full of surprises, I'm telling you."

Still laughing, George nodded at me. "You need to go to class. Can't miss your first day, can you?"

"You're missing _your_ first day," I pointed out.

"We're not first years," Fred said. "Off you go, now."

I waved goodbye and hurried into the classroom, apologizing to Professor Flitwick before sitting between Terry and Lisa.

All first years gathered into a small lecture hall for History of Magic. The loud echoes off the stone walls did nothing to make the constant drone of Professor Binn's lesson more exciting.

Across the hall, I spotted Draco sitting with the Slytherins. He was watching Vincent and Greg play Quidditch with wadded up paper.

Next to me, Terry had propped his feet on top of the table, his text book laying open across his lap. Our spots were near the back, so no one was really bothered by his carelessness.

"This is dull," he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear. "This is so stupid."

"We have this class again tomorrow," I told him.

"I could die," Terry said. "I could die, right now, and he wouldn't notice for another hour because he'd be too invested in his lesson."

Rolling my eyes, I reached into my pocket for licorice wand. "You're so dramatic."

"No, I'm realistic," he said, grinning at me.

I scanned over my schedule, looking for extra information. "I wish this said where the library was."

"Surely we have nothing to actually study yet," Terry protested.

"No," I agreed. "But I need somewhere quiet where I can talk to Draco."

"Outside is an option," Terry said.

When the bell finally rang, I left Terry with Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein and sped away to find Draco.

I found him straying behind the others in his house. He gave a start when I grabbed his elbow.

"We still need to talk," I reminded him.

He turned his head. Vincent and Greg were currently being entertained by Pansy and Daphne. "If we go now, they won't be able to follow us," he said.

"Let's go outside," I suggested

We walked down the hall at a brisk speed, breaking into a run when we reached the stairs.

* * *

"This is about Longbottom, isn't it?" Draco asked, squinting against the sunlight to look at me. "He was talking to your earlier, wasn't he? Before History of Magic started?"

Indeed, he had. The Gryffindor's had stumbled in briefly after the Ravenclaws and Slytherins, the happy, buzzing atmosphere still hanging over the group from their free period. Neville had paused as he passed, asking how my day had been and if I felt better from my ailment yesterday.

"Yes," I replied, my thumbnail between my teeth.

"He was the one that sat with you on the train," Draco realized, his eyes going wide.

I nodded.

"He looks a bit like an idiot."

Scowling, I punched Draco on the shoulder. "He's not," I said. "He's nice and you shouldn't call him names."

Draco rolled his eyes and turned his back to the sun. "So he doesn't know who you are?"

"Didn't ask about his surname," I said. "And he didn't ask me either."

"Are you going to tell him who you are?"

"No. No way."

Draco gave me a discouraging look and I sighed. Clasping my hands in front of me, I stared out at the lake.

"I can't tell him yet. He's so sweet and I wouldn't be able to bear it if he hated me."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Avoid him at all costs." It would be easy, especially since the only class we had together was History of Magic, in which most people separated themselves into their houses. I would have to keep an eye out for him at all times otherwise. "And probably the other Gryffindors, just to be safe."

"It won't work. He'll find out eventually."

I stared at the ground. "No, he won't."

* * *

Hey, guys. Just as a warning, the next chapter will have a time shift and some minor crushing. I'd appreciate it if you would review!


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